


By the Light of the Moon

by Niorah



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 14:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niorah/pseuds/Niorah
Summary: Short snippet. Takes place somewhere along the story of HZD. Cannot think of a better match for a proud, solid smith, than a young, fiery huntress. It all belongs to Sony Interactive Entertainment and Guerrilla Games. I just had a bit of fun with it.





	By the Light of the Moon

“By fire and spit!”

As she was jogging up the flight of stone stairs, Aloy recognised the familiar voice, and the just as familiar swearing, of the Forgewoman. A small smile curled her lips and she shook her head slightly. “Here we go again...”

On the roof of the forge, sure enough, she found Petra sweating and hammering away as was her custom, day in and day out. The rhythmic clinking of metal on metal was a welcome sound after days passed hunting machines on the dusty desert plains. She slowed down as she walked over to the hard working woman. She almost yelled her greeting to let it be heard above all the tinkering and slamming.

“Hi there!”

Petra jumped and turned around with wide eyes. “Aloy! What the flaming... You shouldn't approach a woman wielding a hammer in complete silence! I was about to bash your head in!” She visibly relaxed and let out a short laugh. “I swear... If you weren't a sight for sore eyes every single time you come back...” The grin on her suntanned face didn't back up the slight threat in her clear voice.

Aloy smiled back, regardless of her inability to fully appreciate a compliment yet. It was all a bit too new for her. “Well, if I had any bad intentions, you can be sure I wouldn't alert you to them by shouting my presence behind you...”

“Ha. That tongue of yours will get you in trouble one of these days. With someone less fond of it than I am, that is.” The smith wiped some sweat from her brow with her forearm before she put down her heavy hammer and took off her thick leather gloves. She offered her hand to the young Nora as a welcome.

“Trouble has a way of finding me regardless of my tongue, Petra. You should know. You have been throwing me into it yourself lately, what with your requests for parts for your mechanical projects.” Aloy shook the slightly callous hand that was waiting for hers, maybe for a moment too long. She felt Petra's grip tighten and she was suddenly pulled into a strong hug. To her own surprise, she didn't fight it. Instead, she reciprocated it. Her nose seemed happy to be engulfed by the strong, earthy scent of the smith. In a baffling way, it smelled like home.

The Oseram's voice was no more than a loud whisper right next to her ear. “It's your fault. You never fail to bring me what I need.”

The huntress felt an unfamiliar heat rising to her cheeks as they separated. She brought out a leather pouch and gave it to Petra. “Right you are. Here are the cables you asked. And a little extra that may be useful to you.”

The Forgewoman's hands rummaged quickly through the bag. She found the extra and her eyes glimmered. “You must be joking... A Thunderjaw's lens?! How in the blazing steel did you...?” She noticed Aloy's smug expression. “You did not! You brought one down?”

“Indeed I did. Can't say it didn't put up a fight though, I must have a couple of bruised ribs at least...” She considered, for the fraction of a second, that the beaming smile on Petra's face was definitely worth it. Something fluttered briefly in her stomach and she was taken a bit by surprise by it. She didn't have the time to give it her full attention, as the smith dragged her over to show her what she had been working on.

The Oseram's pride was plain on her face. “Here, take a look. We are not just builders of weapons, after all.”

Aloy's face was a blank. She had no idea what she was looking at. And it did not go unnoticed by Petra, who volunteered a description, accompanied by a sweet smile. “Look, it is something that I saw only once, in a big city. A travelling merchant was offering it for sale but his price was way beyond what could be afforded by the average market goer. Nevertheless, it caught my curiosity.”

The young Nora interrupted her for a second. “It looks like a small metal boat...”

Petra laughed. “Very observant!” She went on explaining as she slowly walked around it. “It is called a hot tub. You fill it with warm water, then this little engine here blows air inside and creates... bubbles!”

The lack of understanding was plain on Aloy's face, she squinted at the contraption. “All right... so it makes bubbles for water... and?”

The smith leaned on the opposite side of the tub and stared at the huntress with a spark in her eyes. “And you sit inside.”

The Nora's brain finally caught up. “Oh!” Her hand ran along the metal rim briefly, appreciating the smoothness. “So, you can use it to... wash yourself? But why bubbles? I never realised they'd be necessary for cleanliness...”

“They're not. Those are just for the sheer pleasure of your pale, freckled skin.” Petra smirked, never taking her eyes off Aloy's beautiful face. She had missed it. She took a moment to consider just how happy this young woman made her, simply by being there. Although she had lived for a while, she had never really delved into anything more than fleeting encounters with other women, mostly travellers, some mercenaries, people that passed by and left, the smell of their skin lingering on her own beddings for just a few days afterwards, just as their place in her life. She didn't really want anything more, she liked her personal freedom, and always ran away from any possible... complications. But this girl was different. Petra had been drawn to her from the first few words they had exchanged. Well, more like lethally attracted to her, like a moth to a flame. It seemed like the Nora might be interested in her as well, but there was something odd, as if she wanted to keep her distance, as if she was uncertain. Of what, Petra didn't know. But she was dying to find out. She lay down her lure. “How about we share dinner. I roasted a boar's leg, my grandmother's recipe. Then I can show you how this thing works. Your body will be forever grateful.” She winked, ostensibly.

The young huntress noticed her belly was growling at the mention of the meat. She accepted the invitation without even blinking. “That sounds like just what I need.” In retrospect, she thought she might have been a bit too enthusiastic, but oh well, you cannot take back words you have already spoken. She shrugged the slight awkwardness off as they walked down the stairs and into the Forgewoman's quarters.

-

The inviting, slightly wild smell of roasted meat filled the air inside, and Aloy's hunger became loud as her nostrils took it in. The dim light gave the room a homely warmth. She sat down on a short, simple wooden stool by the small table and her eyes followed Petra as she shed her heavy leather apron and tossed it aside before tending to their dinner. 

The smith brought her a waterskin filled with something to drink. “Try this. It's a brew a friend of mine makes. Great stuff, if I say so myself.”

Aloy welcomed the fresh beverage. Her mouth still felt dry from the long hours spent hunting in the sun and the heat, and this thing was washing it away like a dream. She noticed it was packing a punch a minute too late. She didn't like to dull her senses with alcohol, but she felt safe here, with Petra, and she decided to just go with the flow for once. She set aside whatever tiny, nagging voice was telling her to stop drinking and just enjoyed the sensation of lightness in her head. Her attention went back to the Oseram, and she found herself almost studying the older woman as she moved around with ease, every gesture precise, every step agile, one would have never guessed she'd possess such grace just by watching her working her days away at the forge. It came as a pleasant surprise, and it made for a pleasant view. The young Nora caught that thought as it sped through her mind. She was not entirely sure what to make of it, but it felt good, so she let it be, instead of disregarding it or burying it.

Petra approached the table bearing two bowls, filled to the brim with what looked like a feast. Aloy couldn't wait to sink her teeth in it. “Thank you. I am famished, truly.”

The smith gave her an open, honest smile as the Nora unceremoniously dug in. “Good! Then I am happy for the chance to feed you. It's the least I can do, given all the stuff you brought me.” She paused for a second, and then decided to add. “By smelting steel, I would feed you anyway. It is a pleasure to watch you eat.”

The huntress felt self conscious for just a moment, but the happiness on Petra's face erased the uncomfortable feeling immediately.

As they ate and drank, they exchanged stories. Aloy regaled her host with the tale of her mighty fight with the Thunderjaw, just the day prior, not leaving out any details, describing all that she had had to do to kill the great machine, and the smaller ones that were roaming with it in the enclosed little valley where she had spotted it. Her arms almost flailed as she described her jumps, her dodges, the incredible effort that it all took, until the very final blow that sent the beast to its fizzling death on the sand and rocks. 

Petra listened intently, participating with “oohs” and “aahs” as the action unfolded. When Aloy was done with her recounting, she offered some funny anecdotes about jobs gone very, very awry at the forge where she had started working. Back in the day she had been younger than the Nora, and completely unprepared for the intricacies of metal welding and twisting and melting. 

It was hilarious, she was a great story teller and Aloy was mesmerised. They laughed so hard their bellies were hurting, passing the brew between them and enjoying the tasty roast.

Out of the blue, with a swift cut of her knife, the Oseram sliced a small chunk of meat. She caught it in her thumb and forefinger and offered it to the huntress. “Here. It's the best bite.” Her eyes fixed on her young guest, expectantly.

There was a moment of pause in Aloy's head. She evaluated the offer, and the intimate gesture behind it. Not even Rost, her father figure and mentor, had ever fed her from his own hands. Not since she could hold her own food anyway. Nevertheless, it felt... enticing. She stared back at Petra, she opened her mouth and allowed her to gently deliver the generous morsel. In what came as an unconscious, and certainly unforeseen move, her lips slowly closed on the smith's fingers and briefly, softly sucked them.

Time stood still. Petra could swear her heart had stopped beating altogether, her own mouth fell slightly open and went dry as she was taken by storm by all the sensations her fingers were shooting back into her brain like lightning. That was... unexpected. And divine.

As Aloy withdrew and started chewing with as much nonchalance as she could, the Oseram remembered to breathe. And as the oxygen cleared her mind, she found herself leaning in towards the Nora. She stopped a feather away from her lovely face, to make sure that the younger woman wouldn't want to shy away. She didn't. A grin opened on Petra's lips. She pretended to sniff the air a couple of times and she whispered. “I think it's time for a bath. For both of us.”

She quickly jumped up from her stool, leaving Aloy dumbfounded. She offered her hand to the huntress.

The Nora was utterly confused. True, she had no idea of how these things worked, but somewhere in her instincts she knew she had been expecting something quite different... She shook herself out of the stupor and accepted the hand, thinking to herself. 'Go with the flow Aloy. Go with the flow...'

Before heading back out, Petra picked up an animal's large, tanned fur. She gleefully commented as she flung it on her shoulder. “This will come in handy.”

They climbed together the flight of stone stairs back up to the forge.

-

The sun was already halfway behind the horizon, and the sky was turning to dusky blue all around them. The nocturnal wildlife was coming out of their nests and burrows, filling the air with calls and songs. A nigh full moon was rising, her light shining on the desert and making the night brighter than usual. Some improvised musicians were playing an array of makeshift instruments around the fire in the small village square below, the notes flying up in the light breeze, just slightly muffled. It was still warm outside, and it was easy to feel the heat from the daylight emanating from the high walls of the few tall mesas in the surroundings.

Petra walked to the forge and threw a few logs in the fire, the flames catching on immediately. She lay the fur down on the hard ground, just a few paces from her hot tub. It was already filled with water. Aloy chose not to ask how that could have happened. Knowing the smith, she was sure she had ordered someone, anyone really, to fill it up for her while they were eating dinner. People had a tendency, a very wise tendency, to do anything the Forgewoman told them. Well, they better. She could keep a swarm of Watchers in line, the Nora was sure. Her eyes went wide when the Oseram started taking off her clothes. In a few seconds, she was naked in the moonlight, and giving Aloy a smirk.

“So. You gonna shed the armour? I promise no one will come by to steal it. In fact, I was very clear that no one was to climb those steps until sunrise, at the very least.”

The huntress had been naked countless times, washing herself in streams and ponds, but never in front of another person. The fact that the smith had so shamelessly disrobed first made her feel at ease about it though. As she started undoing the knots and clasps of her leather armour, she took a good look at Petra, who was just standing there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her hair was jet-black, her breasts were full. Beneath her tawny and taut skin, there were muscles that could break a machine's back. Not defined, but strong to the core. The muscles of one who works them everyday, indefatigably. Aloy found herself admiring the Forgewoman. There was something about her. As if her untamable, defiant spirit was rippling along every curve of her body, and pouring out from the dark depths of her eyes.

Petra was definitely enjoying the show. She had to admit to herself that she had been wondering, and maybe even fantasising, about what the Nora would look like under her leathers and necklaces and metal plates. She usually had a very good imagination, but the reality was far surpassing it. She was having a hard time trying not to drool. She watched as the huntress, finally free of her clothes, elegantly entered the tub and settled in it, the water coming up to her chest, her arms resting on the brims, a sure smile on her lips. Her voice was irreverent as she mocked the Oseram.

“So. You gonna join me in here? Or are you planning to just gawk at me all night.”

The Forgewoman couldn't help a hearty laugh. Damn, but this girl had fire in her veins. She did not need to be asked twice. Her legs went over the rims of their own volition and she lowered herself in the warm water. Her body, tired from working hard since the break of dawn, was instantly grateful. The tub was just big enough for the two of them, and their legs entangled naturally, leaving their knees out to the rapidly chilling air. In an inexplicably familiar gesture, their hands met along the brim and their fingers intertwined, playfully.

Aloy smiled in a cocky way. “I might be mistaken, but I believe I was promised bubbles...”

“And so you shall have, my lovely machine hunter.” The Oseram reached behind the tub and flipped a switch. A humming noise, uncannily low, began purring. In just a second, the water started bubbling away.

The Nora giggled and wriggled. “It tickles!”

It took a few moments for her to regain her composure. It felt so wonderful. Her muscles relaxed and she let out a long, dreamy breath. She rested the back of her head on the metal and closed her eyes, listening to the contentedness of every inch of her skin. She sighed. “I'll be. Here's to Oseram engineering and ingenuity.”

The Forgewoman had something to say about that. She cleared her throat, more loudly than necessary. “Hrm. Hrm.” 

Aloy's eyes flickered open and she gave Petra her full attention. 

“I believe you meant: here's to -Petra's- engineering and ingenuity?” A very encouraging smile was curving the older woman's mouth and making the wrinkles around her eyes dance.

With the agility of a young predator, the Nora shifted her body, water splashing around her briefly, her knees grazing the bottom of the tub, her hands gripped the brims just behind the smith's arms, and she hovered on top of the Oseram, looking down at her, hazel eyes boring holes in dark eyes. Her voice was more sultry than she had anticipated. “And I believe you wanted to kiss me at the dinner table. What will it be? An evening of 'I-believes'? I thought you were more of a woman of action, Petra Forgewoman.”

A jolt of astonishment left Petra speechless for a neverending moment. She tried to conjure up an appropriate comeback, and realised instead that the time for words was over. Her hands cupped Aloy's jaw and she drew her in for a kiss. Their lips met, salty, sweet, soft. They lingered for an eternity, lost in the moment, lost in each other. Then, tentatively, the Nora's mouth opened slightly and her tongue slowly reached out, mirrored by Petra's. They shared long caresses, taking their time, savouring every stroke, every flick, every push. The smith's arms circled the Nora's waist and her hands slid on her ivory skin, her fingertips tracing her wiry muscles. Aloy moaned. She didn't expect to. She stopped. She looked deeply into Petra's eyes, that were now flickering in the warm light from the fire of the forge. She hesitated to speak, mostly because of what she wanted to say. But her honesty took over. No more silly banter. “Thank you.” She smiled. “I'm no expert, but I doubt it could get any better than this... as far as first kisses go.”

The Forgewoman was stunned and, incredibly enough, she stuttered, quite possibly for the first time in her life. “Aloy... I didn't know... Had no idea...” She pushed the young huntress away, slowly but firmly, until she had enough room to stand up and get out of the tub.

It was the Nora's turn to be somewhat bitterly confused. Had she done, or said, something wrong? She was about to regret this whole evening, when her doubts were scurried away by Petra's hand seizing hers, gently pulling her out of the tub and leading her to the soft, warm fur she had laid on the floor earlier. Once there, her strong arms guided her down, allowing her to lie comfortably on her back. The smith lowered herself on top of her, until their bodies fit together seamlessly, their arms holding each other tightly, their eyes locked in a serious gaze. Without so much as another word, they kissed again. This time it felt deeper, more hungry than before, and when they separated, they were both slightly gasping. 

The huntress grabbed the Oseram's hair to keep her face at a distance for a moment. “Petra... I... Well, obviously...”

The Forgewoman smiled sweetly. “Aloy, do you trust me?”

The answer came as more of a low whisper than a proper statement. “I do.”


End file.
